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OK, so there won't be a LOT on here about sex, but tell the truth, that's most of the reason you entered this site, right? So, I'll slip some things in from time to time just to keep you coming...back.

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Wednesday, June 29, 2016

Everyone has
heard of Catholic guilt and Jewish guilt, but with absolutely no knowledge of
what either of those things entail, I submit that Quaker guilt can’t be any
less powerful.

Quaker guilt
surrounds the idea that we aren’t doing enough in the world. We aren’t doing it
right. We need to make more of a positive impact on the world.

Over the
years, a number of young people have said to me how unhappy they are with their
jobs, primarily because they are embarrassed by it. It isn’t an ideal job, not
because of the pay or responsibilities or because it doesn’t meet their
passion. It’s a feeling I am well familiar with because I was once that kid.
Heck, I was once that adult. And whenever one of those kids comes to me with
that concern, I tell them this story.

Many years
ago, one of the people from our Quaker Meeting who had known me since I was wee,
passed away. I’ll call him Jim. Jim McQuail. Just a random name. He was a guy I
had a great deal of respect for, and after listening to the messages at his
Quaker memorial service, I realized that my respect for him was dwarfed by the
dozens of people who spoke that morning. I don’t remember a single message
specifically, but every message was about some way Jim had helped that person
in their time of need or struggle. Some of them were clients of Jim’s, hiring
him as their CPA, and some were members of our Meeting, and others were just
friends he’d made on his journey through life.

(I said
earlier that I don’t remember any of the messages specifically, but come to
think of it, I do remember one, from his wife Virginia. Ever the blunt speaker,
either with a comment that could make you feel a mile high or as low as could
be (having been on the receiving end of both examples), but always said in love
and with a smile, Virginia listened to nearly an hour of adoring messages
reflecting on what a wonderful person Jim was, when she rose to speak, all of us
expecting Virginia to add another touching tale to those already proffered. She
stood, paused, and said “Well, now, he wasn’t THAT great!” The place erupted.)

Anyway, when
the service was over, we headed over to the schoolhouse across the driveway for
a luncheon reception where I found myself talking with a childhood friend, Jim’s
nephew David. David asked me what I was doing with my life, and I told him
about my accounting job and how, even though I generally liked my job, I felt unfulfilled,
as I didn’t think I was making much of a positive impact on the world.

David
listened to what I had to say and when I was done, he gave me a disappointed frown
and said “Weren’t you just in Uncle Jim’s memorial service?” I told him that
indeed, I had been. And he said the words I’ve never forgotten and have
repeated so many times over the years:

“Then you
heard all those people stand to talk about Uncle Jim. Did you hear any of them
say anything about his job? About how he had saved them money on their taxes? About
financial advice he gave them as their CPA? No. They all talked about the huge
impact he had on their lives as a person, the help he offered, the personal
advice he gave.”

Friday, June 3, 2016

About once a week, I get a spam comment that tries to get itself posted to this blog, but can't be unless I accept it as post-worthy. They are often so complimentary, I just revel in their kind words until I get to the second sentence which usually asks that I check the exciting link they provide to their particular site, which, well, don't promote the sorts of behavior we like to share on this site. Not judging though!

This one below came through a few weeks ago and I decided to copy and paste it here, just because it reeks of such sincerity...and it reminds me of loyal reader, Becca Jane, for reasons she'll understand.

I received a really nice email from another loyal reader, name of Judy, coincidentally NOT related to me, but is just about the sweetest person with one of the nicest, most sincere smiles you'll ever see. And she has a blog that is 10 times better than this one, but I'm not linking to it until she promises to make a new entry, even if it doesn't have anything to do with clutter! :-)

Anyway, with her permission, here is the email she sent me:

Hi Jamie,

I've been meaning to
tell you how touched I was by Reat's journal entry words you quoted in your
recent blog post. (And a tip of the hat for keeping at your blog, unlike
some people ... Ahem.)

You reminded me of a few
sun-drenched memories of mine, talking to Reat while waiting for Emily to
finish her art class with Paul. One time she told me she had been reading over
her journals, and she said, "I thought, wow, I was a really good mother!"
Such an enviable revelation ... especially to me ... one who is overly,
overly self-critical. She was so very special.

Love,

Judy

Well, first of all, thank you for taking the time to send me that, Judy. And secondly, judging from the quality of your amazing kids, you too are "a really good mother!"

But yeah, Mom was a great mom. I guess it's safe to say that we kids saw a side of her that many didn't, and are aware of decisions she made that we like to think we might have handled differently, and, I believe, in retrospect, that she wished she had too. (As is certainly true for me as a Dad as well.) As wonderful a mom and person as she was, she did go through some tough times when she and we were much younger, but regardless, I put her in the small category of Quaker Saint from back in her era, along with people like Enid Brown, Virginia McQuail and Jane Moore. Not necessarily parent-related, except in the It Takes A Village scenario, in which case, since they certainly all helped raise me and my sibs, I think they certainly qualify.

I know Mom worked her butt off to be the best mom she could be. Funny, now that I'm a Dad, and have been for the best 18 years of my life, partly thanks to my kids, in some ways I have both more and less respect and awe for my folks. More, because I realize how incredibly hard it is, especially in terms of time and energy. But also, less, because I, like most of us, put my folks on a pedestal. A pedestal of perceived perfection (!) that though I still feel an element of for them, the idea that my kids may feel that way about me is just crazy. Whatever nice things they might think of me as a Dad, well, thanks, it means a lot, but there is so much I might have done better.

Mom was a mom during an important historical parenting transition, one I don't think has been written about much, at least that I have seen. Up until Dr. Spock (no, not this guy), the one who wrote THE book on parenting in 1946 which was a bible to post-war moms. But even past that, the women who were moms from the mid- to late-50's and into the 60's, when the idea of kids being seen and not heard was not only questioned, but pretty much abandoned. I don't know whether it was the moms who caused that to happen or the kids, starting around the time that Blackboard Jungle (really hitting Wikipedia hard today!) was written (another of the rare books that I actually read!...ok, it's a not a rare book, it's a book read by me, which is rare. Sorry, grammar/syntax-police.) and the movie version was filmed. (Movie note: "It is remembered for its innovative use of rock and roll in its soundtrack and for the unusual breakout role of a black Bahamian-American cast member, future Oscar winner and star Sidney Poitier as a rebellious, yet musically talented student.") Awesome book, awesome movie!

I remember a time in the late 60's/early 70's when Mom became really, really into reading up on all kinds of new parenting and education-related techniques. The book Open Classroom was especially important to her - not geared toward parenting, per se, but I know it had an impact anyway.

I guess that's all I wanted to share for now, when I think of Mom as a mom. I guess the nicest thing, of many, that I could say about her as a mom, or more importantly maybe, as a person, was that after she died, my sisters and I decided going forward, without her as a person to help us with our day-to-day challenges, we would approach each such challenge based on WWMD: What would Mom Do. And that mindset has rarely, if ever, failed me...when I've remembered to use it.

All that said, the two things I always try to come back to related to parenting are:

1 - I believe that we play way less of a role in our kids development than we think we do, and...

2 - As our wise friend, Wanda, who lives in St. Croix in the Virgin Islands once said; "We're all doing the best we can." Amen, Wanda.

About Me

I live with my awesome family of 5 or 6 or maybe 8 depending on your definitions regarding an engaged step-daughter, an exchange student, and dogs, cats and stuff, in West Vincent in the house my dad built back in the 50's. I graduated from Westtown School and Earlham College, with a degree in Psychology, which helps explain why I'm an Accountant today. I've been a Quaker since I was 2 months old and a Phillies fan since I was 7. Being a Quaker has served me far better.
I hope you enjoy this blog. Let's try to keep it vitriol free.